food poetry
 

My book club is doing poetry this month. The meeting
is tonight. I decided to find some of them poems I wrote
a few years back. Found this one. I had completely forgotten
it.

NEBRASKA CORN CHOWDER

It's all I think about lately
Whenever I'm hungry
I dream about it
The richness of the cream
The sweetness of the corn
The tang of the onion
The smoky, salty bacon
The tender potatoes
The piquant paprika

I picture myself cooking
Husking fresh corn
Picked early that morning
Sold from the back of a pickup truck
Cutting corn from the cob
The sweet juices flowing
Frying thick slices
Of meaty slab bacon
Peeling the rich brown skin
From an Idaho potato
Dicing it into perfect cubes
Crying over the onions

I picture myself eating
Finally sitting down
To feast on the golden stew
It's just as I dreamed
My hunger subsides
For now

Kate

--
Kate Connally
“If I were as old as I feel, I’d be dead already.”
Goldfish: “The wholesome snack that smiles back,
Until you bite their heads off.”
What if the hokey pokey really *is* what it's all about?

food poetry
 

On Tue, 28 Apr 2009 13:00:24 -0400, Kate Connally >
wrote:


Kate, years ago I seem to remember food poetry being posted to
r.f.c, author BERDA. Joszef.

In one, he likens the onion to a woman's breast, which makes him
cry, gladly....

I think I have these somewhere and could send them to you, if you
want them.

Ode to a Goose!

Alex, recalling that they were quoted in Lang's Cuisine of Hungary.
There's a copy on my shelf. (YES!)

food poetry
 

"Chemiker" > wrote in message
...
> On Tue, 28 Apr 2009 13:00:24 -0400, Kate Connally >
> wrote:
>
>
> Kate, years ago I seem to remember food poetry being posted to
> r.f.c, author BERDA. Joszef.
>
> In one, he likens the onion to a woman's breast, which makes him
> cry, gladly....
>
ah! A real man!

food poetry
 

"Mike.. . ." > wrote in message
...
> On Tue, 28 Apr 2009 13:00:24 -0400, Kate Connally wrote:
>
>> My book club is doing poetry this month. The meeting
>> is tonight. I decided to find some of them poems I wrote
>> a few years back. Found this one. I had completely forgotten
>> it.
>>
>> NEBRASKA CORN CHOWDER
>
> i dont like it.
>
> --
> Mike... . . . .
> remove clothing to email
>

you didn't ask permission to post here mike.

go away.

--
skeeter

remove HI for email

if time is an illusion, and space does not exist..
then i'm really ****ed.

food poetry
 

On Apr 28, 10:00*am, Kate Connally > wrote:
> My book club is doing poetry this month. *The meeting
> is tonight. *I decided to find some of them poems I wrote
> a few years back. *Found this one. *I had completely forgotten
> it.
>
> * * * * NEBRASKA CORN CHOWDER
>

There once was some corn on a cob
Together they formed a samll mob
But when by themselves
as they sat on the shelves
they realized they'd never be on a kabob.

food poetry
 

"Kate Connally" > wrote in message
...
> My book club is doing poetry this month. The meeting
> is tonight. I decided to find some of them poems I wrote
> a few years back. Found this one. I had completely forgotten
> it.


IMHO the best ever written or performed

Dimitri

Fat Man's Prayer


Lord, My soul is ripped with riot
incited by my wicked diet.
"We Are What We Eat," said a wise old man!
and, Lord, if that's true, I'm a garbage can.
I want to rise on Judgment Day, that's plain!
But at my present weight, I'll need a crane.
So grant me strength, that I may not fall
into the clutches of cholesterol.

May my flesh with carrot-curls be sated,
that my soul may be polyunsaturated
And show me the light, that I may bear witness
to the President's Council on Physical Fitness.

And at oleomargarine I'll never mutter,
for the road to Hell is spread with butter.
And cream is cursed; and cake is awful;
and Satan is hiding in every waffle.

Mephistopheles lurks in provolone;
the Devil is in each slice of baloney,
Beelzebub is a chocolate drop,
and Lucifer is a lollipop.

Give me this day my daily slice
but, cut it thin and toast it twice.
I beg upon my dimpled knees,
deliver me from jujubees.

And when my days of trial are done,
and my war with malted milk is won,
Let me stand with the Saints in Heaven
In a shining robe--size 37.

I can do it Lord, If You'll show to me,
the virtues of lettuce and celery.
If You'll teach me the evil of mayonnaise,
of pasta a la Milannaise
potatoes a la Lyonnaise
and crisp-fried chicken from the South.

Lord, if you love me, shut my mouth.

~ By Victor Buono ~

food poetry
 

Chemiker wrote:
> On Tue, 28 Apr 2009 13:00:24 -0400, Kate Connally >
> wrote:
>
>
> Kate, years ago I seem to remember food poetry being posted to
> r.f.c, author BERDA. Joszef.
>
> In one, he likens the onion to a woman's breast, which makes him
> cry, gladly....

Hmmm? Not sure, but it couldn't hurt to look.

> I think I have these somewhere and could send them to you, if you
> want them.
>
> Ode to a Goose!

Now that's a bird worth of an Ode. Man, I *love* goose!

> Alex, recalling that they were quoted in Lang's Cuisine of Hungary.
> There's a copy on my shelf. (YES!)

Thanks,
Kate

--
Kate Connally
“If I were as old as I feel, I’d be dead already.”
Goldfish: “The wholesome snack that smiles back,
Until you bite their heads off.”
What if the hokey pokey really *is* what it's all about?

food poetry
 

Chemo the Clown wrote:
> On Apr 28, 10:00 am, Kate Connally > wrote:
>> My book club is doing poetry this month. The meeting
>> is tonight. I decided to find some of them poems I wrote
>> a few years back. Found this one. I had completely forgotten
>> it.
>>
>> NEBRASKA CORN CHOWDER
>>
>
> There once was some corn on a cob
> Together they formed a samll mob
> But when by themselves
> as they sat on the shelves
> they realized they'd never be on a kabob.

Cute, except for scanning problem in last line. ;-)

Kate


--
Kate Connally
“If I were as old as I feel, I’d be dead already.”
Goldfish: “The wholesome snack that smiles back,
Until you bite their heads off.”
What if the hokey pokey really *is* what it's all about?

food poetry
 

On Apr 29, 11:53*am, Kate Connally > wrote:
> Chemo the Clown wrote:
> > On Apr 28, 10:00 am, Kate Connally > wrote:
> >> My book club is doing poetry this month. *The meeting
> >> is tonight. *I decided to find some of them poems I wrote
> >> a few years back. *Found this one. *I had completely forgotten
> >> it.
>
> >> * * * * NEBRASKA CORN CHOWDER
>
> > There once was some corn on a cob
> > Together they formed a samll mob
> > But when by themselves
> > as they sat on the shelves
> > they realized they'd never be on a kabob.
>
> Cute, except for scanning problem in last line. *;-)
>
> Kate
>
> --
> Kate Connally
> “If I were as old as I feel, I’d be dead already.”
> Goldfish: “The wholesome snack that smiles back,
> Until you bite their heads off.”
> What if the hokey pokey really *is* what it's all about?
>

The Goops they lick their fingers.
The Goops they lick their knives.
They spill their broth on the tablecloth,
And, oh! They lead disgusting lives.

[Can't remember this line]
[or this one . . .]
And loud and fast they chew.
And that is why I'm glad that I
Am not a Goop; are you?

Better Homes and Gardens Storybook c. 1950
Reprinted c. 1970

Lynn in Fargo

food poetry
 

Lynn from Fargo Ografmorffig wrote:
> On Apr 29, 11:53 am, Kate Connally > wrote:
>> Chemo the Clown wrote:
>>> On Apr 28, 10:00 am, Kate Connally > wrote:
>>>> My book club is doing poetry this month. The meeting
>>>> is tonight. I decided to find some of them poems I wrote
>>>> a few years back. Found this one. I had completely forgotten
>>>> it.
>>>> NEBRASKA CORN CHOWDER
>>> There once was some corn on a cob
>>> Together they formed a samll mob
>>> But when by themselves
>>> as they sat on the shelves
>>> they realized they'd never be on a kabob.
>> Cute, except for scanning problem in last line. ;-)
>>
>> Kate
>>
>> --
>> Kate Connally
>> “If I were as old as I feel, I’d be dead already.”
>> Goldfish: “The wholesome snack that smiles back,
>> Until you bite their heads off.”
>> What if the hokey pokey really *is* what it's all about?
>>
>
> The Goops they lick their fingers.
> The Goops they lick their knives.
> They spill their broth on the tablecloth,
> And, oh! They lead disgusting lives.
>
> [Can't remember this line]
> [or this one . . .]
> And loud and fast they chew.
> And that is why I'm glad that I
> Am not a Goop; are you?
>
> Better Homes and Gardens Storybook c. 1950
> Reprinted c. 1970
>
> Lynn in Fargo

I may be a Goop in the privacy of my own home
when eating alone. ;-)

Kate

--
Kate Connally
“If I were as old as I feel, I’d be dead already.”
Goldfish: “The wholesome snack that smiles back,
Until you bite their heads off.”
What if the hokey pokey really *is* what it's all about?

food poetry
 

Lynn from Fargo Ografmorffig wrote:
> The Goops they lick their fingers.
> The Goops they lick their knives.
> They spill their broth on the tablecloth,
> And, oh! They lead disgusting lives.
>
> [Can't remember this line]
> [or this one . . .]
> And loud and fast they chew.
> And that is why I'm glad that I
> Am not a Goop; are you?
>
> Better Homes and Gardens Storybook c. 1950
> Reprinted c. 1970
>
> Lynn in Fargo
>


Never heard of the Goops, until now. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goops


Hey, I could always use some anti-Goop lessons, but not while I am
eating breakfast. <schlurrrrrp!>


Becca